


Face to Face, Cheek to Cheek

by Pluppelina



Series: I Need Some Fine Wine And You Need To Be Nicer [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A day in the life of, Jim has no respect for boundaries, Jim is basically anorexic, M/M, non-graphic mentions of torture, not that Sebastian seems to mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which nothing out of the ordinary happens at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Face to Face, Cheek to Cheek

It’s mid-morning, which, in the Moriarty household, means roughly half eight. Jim has passed up on every single offer of breakfast made to him so Sebastian is cleaning the gun he didn’t have time for last night when Jim groans “Hungry,” from across the table, and Sebastian doesn’t even bother to look up from the barrel.

“What for?” he asks simply and he doesn’t care that his half-hour long attempt to feed Jim failed despite that because it isn’t often Jim actually willingly accepts food given to him, and when he does, it’s usually very specific.

“Nothing,” Jim moans, shaking his head. Which means that he’s already changed his mind, and doesn’t want to eat anymore, has already beaten down whatever signal his body sent him. Despite popular opinion, Sebastian can’t actually read Jim’s mind, so he doesn’t have any idea what the other wants, but he knows what he usually likes, and since he’s busy he gets a pan pizza out of the freezer and into the microwave. He sets the table silently and Jim is silent too, which is good, because if he was to say anything it’d most likely be a protest. The microwave pings, and Sebastian sets the pizza down in front of Jim before he goes back to cleaning his rifle. 

Jim eats in silence for a while, and Sebastian keeps working the grime out of his barrel. 

“That black eye is healing up nicely,” Jim remarks after a while. Hm? Oh. Sebastian had almost forgotten about that. Still, not a lot of men managed to fight him long enough to leave souvenirs, at least not when he was armed. It had been Jim’s fault, really, because Jim had put Sebastian’s knife in the left boot instead of the right so it had been an extra moment before he’d managed to gut his enemy - an extra moment, and a wrong move. The little fucker had stepped on his gun.

“Yeah, but I still haven’t gotten the scope replaced,” he says bitterly as he put the barrel down to go check on the bolt where it rested in its solvent in the sink. It had been a fucking good scope. “Do you have cash?”

He takes the bolt out, shakes it twice, and gets a paper towel to wipe it down.

“Take my card,” Jim says into his pizza, chewing, chewing, chewing, the endless chewing of someone who doesn’t want to swallow. Sebastian is thrilled at the words because while the reason for them is mostly that Jim is short on actual cash they also mean he’s allowed to spend an infinite amount of money on his new toy and that makes Sebastian Moran happy like little else.

After what seems like forever, Jim spits the mouthful of food back down onto the plate, and it’s hardly recognizable as food any longer. He’s a grown man and he’s barely eaten half a small pan pizza and Sebastian pities him, but at least he ate something, which isn’t a normal thing at all.

“Are you full?” he asks, drying his last metal component.

“Bored,” Jim replies, and he nods. Yeah. Of course Jim is bored of the food; it is, after all, food. Sebastian sets his now-dry gun parts down on the bench and sits back down at the table, switching the places of the food and the rifle barrel to finish eating for Jim. No point in letting perfectly good pizza go to waste, after all.

“Do you want something else?” he asks, thinking that maybe some other food will be more interesting, but Jim shakes his head and just watches him. Okay then. Sebastian finishes the meal quickly, eating everything but the mushy pile Jim left on it. He gets up to do the washing and Jim rises simultaneously.

“I’ve got work,” he murmurs as he moves past Sebastian out of the kitchen.

*

Sent from SM to JM at 9.15: Meeting went well. He’s on board.

Sent from JM to SM at 10.32: Did you pick up my dry cleaning?  
Sent from SM to JM at 10.37: No, Henricks did. Probably put it in the hallway closet again.  
Sent from JM to SM at 10.38: The fucking moron. Have someone break his shin.  
Sent from SM to JM at 10.42: Olson’s on his way over. He’ll get back to you.

Sent from SM to JM at 12.49: Won’t make it home for lunch. Target’s late.  
Sent from JM to SM at 12.52: He’s with a mistress. You’ll be a while.  
Sent from SM to JM at 12.55: I’ll get Carson to fetch me something. There’s pancakes in the fridge for you.

Sent from SM to JM at 14.02: Got him. 

Sent from JM to SM at 15.15, image attached: Look what a great job Olson did. You’ll need to find a substitute for Henricks.  
Sent from SM to JM at 15.22: I already did. Could be a permanent solution, much more capable.  
Sent from JM to SM at 15.36: I knew there was a reason I loved you.

Sent from JM to SM at 17.02: Pineapple, whiskey, diet coke, cat sand, formaldehyde.  
Sent from SM to JM at 17.05: I hope we didn’t just get a cat.  
Sent from JM to SM at 17.08: I already have the only pet I need, tiger.

*

Sebastian hears the sound of classical music and Jim’s feet falling rhythmically over the floor. He wonders if Jim’s even aware that he always dances whenever there’s music around, or if his body just internalizes the rhythm and moves to it of its own accord.

He puts everything from the store away first, and then his guns, reminding himself to clean them out tonight so he’ll have the time to go for a run in the morning, and then heads off for a shower to clean the grit and dirt and sweat of the day from his own body before he’ll double back for the kitchen to make dinner. He wonders if Jim ate the pancakes and hopes so.

He’s naked and taking a piss when the bathroom door opens and Jim’s suddenly standing there, licking a big spoon of something chocolaty and that’s good, that Jim’s eating something. He’s much too thin. 

“Did you have a nice day?” he drawls and looks Sebastian up and down as he talks.Sebastian nods, still pissing, and tries to focus on something but the way Jim’s making the eyes at him.

“Did you, boss?” he asks, hoping that the title will remind Jim of the professional nature of their relationship. No such luck.

“Mm, I’ve had worse...” 

Sebastian honestly isn’t sure that his boss is still talking about his day, but he’s done now so he shakes himself off and flushes. “I’m going to take a shower.” Jim pouts at him but nods.

“There’s takeaway Chinese when you’re done,” he says as Sebastian takes the two steps into the cubicle and closes the drapes. It takes several moments before Jim leaves.

Well. At least he ate something, even got them dinner all on his own initiative, and Sebastian’s glad for the fact. Maybe there’s still hope for the world. 

*

“I’m going to bed now.” Sebastian stands hesitantly, and looks down at Jim on the sofa. It’s well past midnight and Jim looks like the living dead - even more so than he normally does.

“M’kay,” he says back, barely moving his mouth, which confirms every suspicion Sebastian’s having. Jim is too stubborn for his own good more often than not, really.  
“You need to sleep, boss,” he points out gently.

“I know.”

Of course he knows. Sebastian moves down to sweep him up into his arms and carry him off to bed, which he ends up doing more often than not these days. “Come on.”

“I can’t,” Jim protests, and the only possible explanation is that he thinks he can’t sleep. Just thinking about lying up sleepless all night makes Sebastian yawn. Okay. It’s one of _those_ nights.

“I’ll get you a pill,” he assures him as he puts him down gently on the bed. Sebastian has Jim’s pills hidden away because Jim doesn’t trust himself with an entire bottle and even though Sebastian knows that Jim could find it easy as anything if he actually wanted to, he appreciates the gesture.

Once Jim has gotten his pill and Sebastian has gone back into his own bedroom and set his alarm, they both fall asleep easily, Jim with a little help and Sebastian of his own accord, and they’re both grateful for the fact.


End file.
